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From “Divine Meditations,” Chap. XVIII.
OH 1 that my Muse could on her nimblest wings | |
| Mount you aloft beyond the foggy aire, | |
| Past the reflection of all terrene things, | |
| And sublamate your soules to things more faire; | |
| That, touching these terrestrial beauties, we | 5 |
| Might rather heare thinke why, than what they be! | |
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| First, what a spatious and maiestick hall, | |
| Full of officious seruants for your vse, | |
| Hath Heauen ordained to entertaine you all; | |
| Wherein, if any want, ’tis but th’ abuse | 10 |
| Of foul excesse, whose surfets wasts the store | |
| That might supply the needies’ wants twice o’er. | |
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| With what a downie carpet hath he spread | |
| The flowerie earth to entertaine your feete, | |
| Where euery plant and flowre that shews his head | 15 |
| Brings with it profit, wonder, and delight; | |
| How many a pretty flie with spotted wing | |
| Vpon there slender stalke their canzons sing! | |
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| How many fruitfull champains feeding flocks, | |
| How many beautious forrests clad in greene, | 20 |
| Where watery nimphes with soft embraces locks; | |
| Such shady groues, as for true loue may seeme | |
| Fit chappels to the winged singers’ layes, | |
| And burbling streames to chaunt true beautie’s praise. | |
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| Yet more, he lodges in earth’s secret vaines | 25 |
| Ten thousand things of farre more valued prise; | |
| And th’ sea for pleasure and for vse conteines | |
| The choisest beauties, richest smells and dies: | |
| Thus hath our Maker for touch, tast, and smell, | |
| For eye and eare, puruey’d compleatly well. | 30 |
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| But man himselfe alone must feed the mind, | |
| And contemplation onely cooks the dish: | |
| What is it, then,—hath Heauen all these assigned | |
| For our vse, to that end we should be his? | |
| Then must we giue him one poor little part, | 35 |
| The onely thing he craues—a thankfull heart. | |
